A Hero Dies in This One
by unperfectwolf
Summary: A forty-seven year old single-mother Calleigh gets the shock of a lifetime when she sees someone much too familiar. (Spoiler: Episode 301, Last Son)
1. Prologue 'September, 2004, Miami

**A Hero Dies in This One**  
**By** Speed Fiend  
**©**opyright Kendra-Lynne 2004  
**An** Unperfect Wolf Fanfiction  
**A** SpiltAppple-Juice Production  
**Warnings:** AU, Spoilers: episode 301, Last Son  
**Summary:** A forty-seven year old single-mother Calleigh gets the shock of a lifetime when she sees someone much too familiar.  
**Banner:** img. photobucket. com/ albums/ v346/ risingrequiem/ ahdito1.jpg (delete spaces)  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine. Speed wouldn't have died if it was mine. sob  
**Authors Note:** Obviously Speed dying was bad. So here's the little plot gator that just HAD to bite me really hard. My bunny died. So... Now that she's where the bunnies can hop forever, I have a gator.  
**Authors Note II:** Horatio's nickname is H, but spelling it that way drives me crazy. Nicknames are there for a reason: to say them shorter. So I spell it Ayche. If you can't handle phonetic spelling, sorry!

**Based Off**: a hero dies in this one by The Ataris

**Prologue- September 2004, Miami**

A flash of blond hair clued Valera Duane in on what was happening. She looked from the bathroom door where Calleigh Duquesne had disappeared to the confused look on their Lieutenant's face. With a sigh she grabbed the bag off the counter next to her and followed her friend and coworker into the bathroom.

She leaned against the wall, waiting as Calleigh heaved over the toilet. When she was done, Calleigh stood up and walked over to the sink, rinsing her mouth out and washing her face. Finally she turned and looked at Valera. "What?"

Valera pushed off the wall and handed Calleigh the bag. Calleigh pulled out the box that was in side of it, and gaped.

Valera laughed. "I had one, remember?" she asked. "I can see the signs."

Calleigh wanted to say something, anything, to defend herself, but she could remember Valera's pregnancy and knew she'd done what Calleigh had been doing since his funeral. Six days now.

She hadn't thought that anyone had noticed the first couple of days though, and Valera's intuition surprised her. Of course, considering where she worked, it shouldn't have. She should have been surprised that more people hadn't noticed. Being a CSI took guts, intuition and perception. Valera might have only been a tech, but she was still a CSI.

After almost a minute of silence, Calleigh nodded and took the test into a stall.

Once she came back out, she set the stick down on the counter and leaned back next to Valera, who had re-leaned herself.

Now all they had to do was wait.

Horatio Caine watched his CSI turn and race into the bathroom with bewilderment. Calleigh wasn't squeamish, and they'd only been talking about a local gator anyway.

When Valera grabbed a bag and followed Calleigh into the bathroom, he began to wonder. Had he missed something?

He didn't know what was wrong. He knew that Calleigh had been hurt the worst by Tim Speedle's death the week before, though he hadn't pried into why. Eric and Valera seemed to know, and he thought Alex might.

He had a sneaking suspicion that they'd kept him out of the loop purposely, and maybe even coerced the others into staying silent as well. That conclusion lead down the road to romantic involvement.

As his mind turned that possibility over, Calleigh's run to the bathroom began to make sense. She might not have known it, but he'd seen her make the race again and again, every morning about this time, for the last couple days.

He walked forward, still contemplating this new turn in the information. Stopping outside of the women's restrooms, he waited for them to come out.

Before they did though, Eric Delko, another friend and coworker of Calleigh's, came by. He raised an eyebrow at Horatio, wondering why he was standing outside of the woman's bathroom.

"Hey, Ayche, what's up?" he asked, coming to a halt with him.

Before Horatio could answer, a scream came from the bathroom.

"Oh god! God no!"

It sounded like Calleigh, and both Eric and Horatio drew their guns and burst into the bathroom.

The sight that greeted them was not one that they expected. Standing in the middle of the bathroom was both women, Calleigh holding a small stick in her hand.

When the men entered, they both looked up, mouths agape. "Uh..." Calleigh was silent and Valera didn't know what to say.

Eric was going to laugh, but after taking a closer look at Calleigh, he didn't. Something was wrong. Very wrong. And he'd be damned if he made it worse.

"Hey, Call, what's wrong?" he asked gently. That was obviously a loaded question.

Horatio looked at him like he was crazy, but Eric ignored him. Calleigh looked up at him, and Eric about died. Her expression was so pain filled...

"Eric..." she sobbed, flinging herself at him, "Eric, I'm pregnant!"

Horatio stared at them, and Valera looked on with sympathy. Eric rubbed her back, trying to calm the hysterical woman. He looked pleadingly at Valera, who nodded. "Hey, Ayche? I'm gonna take Calleigh home now, okay?" she told, more that asked, her supervisor.

Horatio didn't mind, just nodded. He and Eric followed the two women from the bathroom, and once they'd made it down the hall, he turned and stared at Eric. "Care to explain?" he asked dryly.

Eric shrugged. "It's Tim's."

Nothing more had to be said. Her reaction, the knowing looks...

It all made sense now, and Horatio wasn't sure he wanted it too.


	2. Chapter One 'October, 2021, Miami

**Authors Note:** Well, here's chap one... Thanks for the reviews on this and my other story, Plenty of Time, guys.

**Chapter One – October 2021, Miami**

Jackson Speedle strolled through the door like he was at home. And in a way, he was. He'd grown up in this building, pretty much.

Glancing over, he waved to the receptionist, Meredith, and moved farther into the Miami-Dade CSI Compound. He knew this place like the back of his hand, and knew the procedures better than anyone. Sometimes he found himself following them at home, much to the amusement of this mother. He was just glad his friends didn't know when he was accidentally following some arsine procedure or when he was just being his sixteen-year-old self.

Now, though, he wasn't here to see his mother, whom he knew was down the hall in her ballistics' lab. Calleigh Duquesne had stopped being a field agent right after she found out she was pregnant and had taken on full time lab work. Now she was one of the leading ballistics' experts in the country.

No, he was there to see his Uncle Eric, this time, and he wasn't here to bum money either. Jackson was often asking for that, but he'd noticed Eric had always gotten a far away look in his eye when he'd handed the cash over. Last time, though...

Last time Eric had given him money, but he'd smiled sadly, wistfully, and told him "Your dad was always 'barrowing' money too."

And Jackson had taken of. People still rarely spoke of Tim Speedle, but he knew he looked a lot like him. Reminded everyone of him. That was half the reason he'd died his hair.

So he'd stopped coming around the labs so much. It was hard, because he'd practically lived thee over the years, but he had.

But now he needed to talk to a guy. He didn't have a dad, and though he didn't blame the guy – what could he do, he was dead – he still sometimes wished he were around.

He passed an open door and stuck his head in to ay hi to his Uncle Horatio. Horatio Caine, once the head of the team of CSI's his mother had worked on, was now the CSI Head for all of Miami-Dade County. Uncle Ayche, as he was known to all of the staff's children, looked older than Jackson could ever remember. He was staring at a piece of plain notebook paper like it ad bitten him.

Clearing his throat, Jackson stepped into the room. When Horatio looked up, Jack saw fear pass over his Uncle's face and wondered what was in the letter that Horatio had so quickly put down.

"Hey Jackson," he said quietly. Horatio had always been a quiet man, especially since the loss of his brother. He'd gotten a little better though, since he had married to a woman named Suzie. Their daughter, Madison, who was now four, was a cool kid as far as Jackson was concerned. Horatio's stepdaughter, Amanda, was pretty nice to him to, for all she was almost five years older.

Jackson hesitated just inside the door. "Hi Uncle Ayche." He looked him over. "What's up?"

Horatio smiled tiredly. 'We just solved a cold case."

Jackson smiled. "Cool." He knew exactly what solving a cold case meant. It meant the CSI's were safe from being targeted. It meant their dreams could settle a little. It meant one more victim was avenged and one more family had closure.

Horatio nodded. "It was your father's case."

Jackson stared at him. He'd already thought about him twice in one day. And now someone was bringing him up. He tried to rarely think of his father. And here he was, being constantly reminded by himself and others.

Of course, no one at school brought it up. Everyone knew his dad was dead, and no one seemed to meet him before they knew it. For some reason, for all the man had been dead longer than he'd been alive, everybody and their cousins knew about his dad.

That his dad was a dead cop.

"Uh..." he stalled. "That old, huh?" He didn't really know what to say.

Horatio nodded. "Yeah, that old. And..." He stopped, running a hand through his hair and sighing. "The facts point that he was killed in reference to this case. That... That he wasn't shot on accident.

"But!" Jackson sputtered. "You were there when he died! You shot at them! It was a totally different case! Those guys are all dead now!"

Horatio nodded again. "I know, I know. But I really don't think it was an accident."

This stopped Jackson cold. He'd always been told 'gun malfunction'. It fact, his mother had deemed that the cause for him to have to look at his gun. To not be able to shoot and save himself.

And yet, his Uncle Horatio was rarely, if ever, wrong anymore. He'd seen way too much, and that meant he'd seen what could be considered "it all".

Finally, after processing the information, he asked, "Does mom know?"

His uncle nodded yet again. "She told me to tell you if I saw you today. I told her this morning."

Jackson nodded slowly. That meant she'd probably fired a couple hundred un-needed rounds today. "And Uncle Eric and Aunt Valera?" Horatio nodded. "Aunt Yelina and Uncle Rick?" Horatio shook his head. "Aunt Alexx?"

When Horatio nodded again, Jackson knew he'd need to come back another time. Especially to talk to Uncle Eric. He and his father had been best friends. Right now, his dad would be on their minds. He didn't think they'd want to see him, he looking so much like his dad, and making it harder for them wasn't something he wanted to do.

So he left the office and went back out the main doors, kicking his skateboard from where he leaned it against the wall and skated forward. He didn't plan on going far- his mother was his ride home to night, what with his piece of crap truck not working.

He made his way to the park across the street and found a bench to sit on. No one but a scruffy looking stranger was nearby, and at the moment, that suited the boy fine.

He sat there, contemplating everything he'd just been told. His father's murder had been planned. It hadn't been the spur of the moment, nor had it been unintentional.

Too bad the shooter had been dead for four years now. He'd have killed him himself if he weren't.

After over an hour of silence, the stranger spoke up. "Rough day?"

Jackson glanced over at him quickly. "You could call it that." He sighed then, and decided to tell this stranger all about it. He needed to tell someone, and he didn't need to lay any more weight on his mom. And his friends were out of the question. They wouldn't even attempt to understand.

"I found out that my dad's death was a murder for hire." There. He'd said it.

The man raised an eyebrow, but didn't flinch. It reminded Jackson of the CSI's. They always were so calm and collected, even when someone told them the worst thing that had ever happened to them.

"Your father was killed? Sorry to hear that," the man told him. Jackson could hear genuine sorrow in the man's voice. Being the son of two CSI's, not to mention practically growing up in the CSI labs, had turned Jackson into a very perceptive teenager.

The boy shook his head though, denying the man's sympathy. "Naw, don't feel too bad. I never knew him. Was offed before I was born, seventeen years ago... Just... A little shocking, to know it wasn't unintentional, ya know?"

The man didn't say anything. 'What could he say,' wondered Jackson, 'That would make a difference?' His internal voice was sarcastic, but sad. "He was a cop, you know. Killed in the line of duty."

His voice was cold and sarcastic. Line of duty killings weren't very rare, but his father's death had been the beginning of an end in the Miami-Dade crime lab. Half of the team got reshuffled, and parts of it broke down. His mom had had a baby. Valera and Eric started dating. His uncle had gotten back in touch with his biological niece, who was now his stepdaughter.

The man was in shock. He didn't know this kid, though he did look familiar. He had blondish colored hair, though it was obviously died by the dark brown color the roots were. His eyes were a deep, dark chocolate brown, and he was almost lanky looking.

"Oh... Uh... What's your name, eh?" the man finally replied.

"Jackson Speedle," the boy said, looking at him closely, his voice curt.

The man was gaping. Speedle? Who was this kid?

As he was about to reply, a blond woman came down the path. "Jackson, honey it's time..." the words 'to go' died on her lips.

Her breath caught and her eyes went wide. Sitting next to her son was someone she had thought long dead.

Dead. As in gone. As in buried and gone. Gone forever.

"Oh my god... Tim?" she asked, then promptly fainted.


	3. Chapter Two 'October, 2021, Miami

**Authors Note:** Another Chappie! Yay! Thanks for the kick ass reviews guys. You guys rock. Glad you're liking it!

**Chapter Two- October 2021, Miami**

As his mother fainted, Jackson jumped forward to catch her. He could see the man lap to his feet, to help him or hinder him he couldn't tell. And before he could get any closer Jackson pulled his mother's gun out and leveled it.

"Back off and sit down," he told the man, nodding to the bench where they had previously been sitting.

He was surprised when the man did as told, though he did eye him, and realized the man probably didn't think he could shoot the gun.

'Shows how much he knows,' the boy thought. He'd been brought up by a leading ballistics' expert. Of course he knew how to shoot.

Once he knew that the man wasn't getting up, he kneeled down next to his mother, who he'd laid down, and pulled out her cell phone. They'd just gotten brand new phones that could supposedly double as radios. Either way, he needed to make a call. Scrolling through the phone numbers, he continued to glance up at the man every few seconds, ensuring the man was staying put.

Finally finding the number he was looking for, he pressed send and hoped his uncle was answering. Hoping he'd know what to do.

"Caine." The voice on the other end sent relief coursing through him.

"Uncle Ayche? Mom fainted, 'cause of some guy."

Horatio was silent for a minute, and then a long drawn out sigh came over the phone. "Where are you, Jack?"

"Across the street, left path. Fourth bench."

Alright, I'm coming, okay?"

Jackson stared at the phone when it clicked off. He hadn't even had enough time to respond.

The other man began to chuckle. "That's Horatio. Never letting anyone have the last word."

Jackson glowered at the man, his gun arm wavering for a second before he steadied it. "What do you know, huh?" he spit out. Fear made him testy. Made him sharp.

He wasn't often afraid.

"Plenty," the man told him. "I know how Horatio will be coming here, out the back door down the hall from his office. I know he's had that office for twenty-five years now. I know Eric's still there, and you're mom's the ballistics expert. She always has been, too..."

The man's voice had turned wistful as he went on. He ended his words with a sigh of reminiscent thoughts and then looked over at the boy again. Something about him nagged him.

Jackson didn't look away from the man until Horatio arrived. As he approached, Horatio wondered how this meeting would affect Jackson's impressions of the man. If the boy would be perceptive enough to know the man hadn't meant harm. He hoped nothing had happened that upon explanation wouldn't be fixed.

He kneeled down next to Jackson, at Calleigh's side, glad to see that she was okay, though still out cold. He looked up at Jackson. "Go tell Eric to call Valera. Have him tell her to leave the kids with Suzie and get in here. Call Alexx and Adele too. And maybe Yelina. Haggen if you feel the need."

Jackson made note that his uncle had left Rick out of the list of people. His mother often told him of when Rick wasn't on their good side, not that any of them truly liked the guy now anyway, but back then he'd been in deep shit with the CSI's. Leaving him out of the list meant that this probably had to do with something from before his time.

Nodding to his uncle, he took off towards the compound. As he left, he heard Horatio snarl out "What the hell were you thinking, Speed?"

The facts began to settle into place when he heard that. He was sure there was a reason for all of the things that didn't make sense, but all he could think about was the fact that that man was Tim "Speed" Speedle. His father.

Once Jackson was gone, Horatio let his frustration get the better of him. The man, scruffy and worn down, but still most definitely Tim Speedle, shrugged. "I go in from Tampa a few hours ago."

"Tampa? Your letter said San Francisco."

"And after that Las Vegas, then Seattle, Denver, Cleveland, Boston, New York and Atlanta. Finally Tampa. They found me in all of those places." The man's stare bored into Horatio.

Horatio decided to leave the explaining until everyone was there. "Why'd you talk to him, Speed?"

Tim gave him an odd look. "Why not? Who is he, anyway? The kid's got my last name!"

His old boss looked at him in what was the closest thing to shock his face registered. "You don't know?"

He didn't wait for an answer, though, before leaning back onto his heels, then standing up. "Can you get her? You've got some explaining to do."

Forty-Five minutes later, Horatio looked out over the group of people who'd taken over one of the conference rooms. Calleigh was still white as a sheet, like she'd seen a ghost, and seemed to be in shock as well.

Eric sat next to Valera Duane-Delko, looking at his old best friend. Seventeen years of thinking someone was dead could send you into shock the next time you met them face to face.

Valera, for the most part, was calm. She'd known, in theory, that he could have been alive. In theory. But the accounts of all the others, him being dead... They tend to settle into you after so long. Since helping Horatio crack that cold case a few days ago, she'd found out that Speed's death had been premeditated to the extreme. It left some error room for him to disappear.

Alexx Wood seemed to be the most shook up. Of all the people, she was the one who saw the dead bodies, got to know the people they might have been. Seeing someone she'd thought dead up and walking was hard. It made her feel that he line of work had been violated... But she truly didn't care about that. Timmy was back. For that, she was glad.

Adele had come in with Yelina. While the latter most likely came because she felt obligated to Jackson to come, Adele was there out of pure compassion. A guy name Tim showed up. Uncle Ayche called him Speed.

That in itself was enough to get anyone of them off their asses and into gear. Speed. Speed was alive...

"Now," Horatio said. Everyone but Jackson, who was still starring at Tim, looked up at him. "Care to tell us anything, Speed?" he didn't catch himself before calling the man by his old nickname.

Fortunately, the use of the nickname did more good than bad. It seemed to relax the group. It also seemed to shift the group dynamic. Instead of the tightly wound team of specialists he had now, they were more the unit they used to be. He could see the links that had once been their appear again, a little of the spark that had been lost when the group dispersed.

Tim nodded to Horatio. "Uh, yeah, Ayche, I do."

Before he could start, Calleigh shook her head and spoke. "What happened, Tim? Where'd you go?"

Tim looked at her and took a deep breath. Dark chocolate brown eyes locked with cerulean blue ones. And then he started.


	4. Chapter Three 'September, 2004, Miami

**Author's Note:** Thanks to my absolutely _wonderful_ beta, Moxie. She kicks ass and got this back asap! She just started in on this chapter, so any thing bad about the first ones is completely my fault. Hope you like this, cause the next is just about him too. Then on to the good stuff ::wink::

**Chapter Three – September, 2004, Miami**

When Speed slammed the door to the steel gray hummer shut, he silently cursed himself for bringing the topic up again. He'd had the same conversation once this week with Calleigh, and he'd had it over and over with almost everyone else. Megan Donner, his mentor, and someone who he'd thought his friend, hadn't badgered him about it, but Megan had up and left with out telling him too.

Of course, Speed was right on one account. No matter what, fancy cars that were bright red were a bad investment. The insurance guys just loved you when you bought one. Way overrated and easy to pick out. A total give away that you carried money or had enough in the family to be worth a ransom.

Horatio, as usual, had just smiled in his quiet way that told everyone he knew he was right. Often it was infuriating. But he was usually, almost 100 of the time, right when he used it. "Someday you might want something with doors."

Of course Tim didn't tell him that Calleigh had already laid down the law on that one. She'd told him that by the time Christmas rolled around, they had to have a car. End of discussion. Female walking away and leaving you to argue by yourself style end of discussion.

But Horatio wouldn't know. At least not for the next few months, by Speed's own mouth. Because that would require telling the Lieutenant, their boss, about not only their romantic involvement but also their plan to marry. He didn't quite know where his boss stood on that, but he figured policy alone said that they shouldn't be doing what they were doing.

So instead of telling his boss exactly what his fiancé and he had discussed earlier, he snorted and walked into the jewelry store. Naturally, his last words would be ironic. Because his whole life was ironic. "Yeah, well, I've got plenty of time for that."

As soon as he got in the door, he knew something wrong. With the case he'd been working solo for months now heavy on his mind, he'd been jumpy lately. But he'd also been much more aware of when things were slightly off kilter. Been able to see something that was only slightly wrong, but not a red flag.

The owner slipped up to them the second they walked in the door. Normally the owners saw two men, and backed up. Especially when Horatio stood in the middle of the room, his hands on his hips in an "I'm king of the heap, now talk to me" pose, his badge clearly showing beneath his blazer. Speed, who never liked to dress fancy, much to Calleigh's delight, because though she dressed fancy, she said she'd fallen for his rough and unfinished looks, always had his badge clipped onto his belt in plain sight. Obviously this didn't sit well with the clerks who cast nervous glances in their direction, talking in hushed whispers of a foreign language.

Speed was not fluent in anything but English and DNA. He could decode a sample faster than the average tech, but foreign languages all flowed in one ear and out the other. Sometimes he thought English might too. Calleigh left him in the dark a lot.

The jeweler's reaction to their presence made him glance from one side of the room to the other. He was trained to see these things. See people react and infer, connect the dots if you will, from it. He was trained to see where they glanced and find out what it was they were looking to. He was the ferret and they were the rabbits, and he would swarm into their burrows and flush them out into the waiting nets of the cops.

Carefully, he stepped into the building further, one ear half trained on the conversation that Horatio was having with the "new owner" of an obviously once European jewelry shop.

Then he saw it. The catalyst. The one piece that needed to fall into place. This was a set up. He knew that face. That was the girl whose case he'd been working on solo, for over a year now's, best friend's older brother. He'd answered the door when he'd gone to interview the best friend.

So he drew his gun. Never mind he hadn't cleaned it in a while, and Calleigh was going to find out and have a fit. Never mind that he wasn't that great of a shot. Sure, he could hit a target, but he wasn't anything like Calleigh, the reflexes ingrained in his bones.

There was a man, under a table, banishing a gun. A man who was connected to another case, the case of a young teenage girl's rape and murder.

He didn't think the man here had done it. Probably his drug supplier. He remembered the way the man had nervously lied about his sister being out. Glanced around. Reeked of drugs Speed itched to bag and tag. But he'd needed the girl. When he'd gotten a hold of the girl, she'd told him she hadn't left the house since her best friend had been found. She didn't know why her brother would lie.

He could hear Horatio call his name, near the front of the store. He could feel his gaze boring into him. But he couldn't get his mind off the little girl's suffering. Something that this man knew about.

And then it began. A shot was fired, and then he tried to return it. He gun wouldn't shoot. He hadn't cleaned it in ages. And he looked at it.

He could hear Horatio yelling at him, shooting back. He could feel the terror in the store build up.

And then the pain hit. It was like a flower, its petals opening, but this was fast and deadly.

Warmth seeped into his shirt. He could taste the blood.

He didn't know how he got there, but then the floor was at his back and he was prone. Horatio was kneeling beside him, telling him something.

But all he could see was Calleigh, his beautiful Calleigh. With her blond hair, a rich shade of honey silk, and her blue eye so deep, like an ocean, that pulled him in.

"Calleigh," he tried to say, but couldn't. Her name couldn't force itself past the blood in his throat.

Horatio was leaning over him, but Tim didn't see him. His dark eyes had focused above them, on something far away, long gone. It wasn't anything but his own eyes playing his memories before his eyes.

The most prominent of these memories were of Calleigh. Of things they shared. Within seconds he had relived moment after moment with her.

Their first date. He could see himself, shy, unsure... unknowing. He wasn't sure if Calleigh's flirting, something he had reveled in for the past few days, meant anything. So, he had decided to ask her to dinner. See if he couldn't figure it out.

He'd approached the ballistics lab tentatively. He really didn't want to seem too eager, but what if he hesitated too much?

Calleigh had been delighted to see him. And for some reason, he couldn't see her as one to exploit on that kind of reaction.

Of course, now he knew better. Calleigh could act with the best of them. But then he hadn't known her truly, only seen a part of her. When he entered, she beamed at him, and he calmed down. "So, uh, you busy tonight?" he'd asked her.

She'd shaken her head, letting her blond hair cascade around her face. Tim managed to hide the blush on his cheeks before she noticed his reaction to her.

"You wanna go grab something to eat?" he asked, casual, indifferent.

Calleigh had smiled at him then, her smile melting away any part of him that wanted to back out. "Sure!"

And oh they had. One date had turned into to two, two into four... and when all was said and done – a full blown relationship.

A year later, he had proposed to her. He could see the tears in her eyes as she hugged him, crying softly "yes, yes, yes!" into his ear.

Now, as he lay on the cold floor of the jewelers, his eyes saw only her. He tried to call to her...

Then the pain was gone, and it was mercifully black.


	5. Chapter Four 'Sep 2004 to Oct 2021

**Authors Note:** Here it is, the last chapter of the flashbacks. So, just to clear things up, keep the witness protection program in mind and remember that Calleigh was alive in 2021.... You'd have figured it out by the end of the chapter, but this way your wont have a heart attack as you read it. Again, love to Moxie!

**Chapter Four – September 2004, San Francisco**

A gentle beeping brought him slowly to. His eyes felt like they'd been filled with sand, then glued shut; and the rest of him was sore all over too.

As he tried to move, a nurse bustled into the room. He cracked one eye open, enough to see her and that he had a room alone. As he watched, he got his cracked lips to move and called out in a dry voice. "Calleigh?"

The nurse looked at him funny, and he knew something was wrong. Calleigh would have visited him, if she'd been anything but in a coma state. "I'm sorry sir, but I'm Norma. Who's Calleigh?"

"Fiancé," he managed to croak. His eyes darted around the room for a sign that anyone he knew that been there.

"Oh, sir..." Her facial expression changed, ever so slightly. "No one has come to see you this whole week..." he could tell she didn't think much of his fiancé.

He was shocked. Even if Calleigh couldn't make it, someone would. Especially considering he was now an open case himself. Unless...

Neither of them could say anything before three men in suits entered the room. One took the nurse off to the side, gently steering her out of hearing range. They obviously didn't know he could read lips, a skill hard taught to him by Calleigh and Eric.

"Ma'am," the agent told her quietly, "forgive him. His fiancé was killed when this happened. He tried to save her. He might not remember."

The nurse's expression changed dramatically. She appeared to be regretting her uncharitable thoughts about his fiancé.

Tim turned his head enough to look at the other agents. Quietly he asked, "She's not dead. She wasn't even there. Tim Speedle is though, huh?"

They almost looked shocked. Almost. But they were government agents. One of them smiled grimly. "This is what we get for dealing with a CSI," he muttered, under his breath.

The second agent nodded. "Mr. Morgan, I'm truly sorry for your loss."

Glancing at the visitors pass, Tim decided to play he game. Knowing Calleigh thought he was dead was a blow. But he needed information and he needed it now. He wanted to figure out when he could return to Miami, head back to his old life. If he ever could.

"Jim," he drawled out, making it seem like he knew the person he was talking to. "We've known each other too long. Don't go all formal on me. Not now. Where is she? How is she?"

The agent smiled slightly, but kept it out of view from the nurse. "Todd, I'm sorry ... she didn't make it. They tried their hardest."

Tim-now-Todd choked slightly. He let the emotions come to the surface. He would seal them off soon enough. His Calleigh thought he was dead. He wondered if she would move on.

He'd helped get people into the Witness Protection Program, and knew how it worked. It was like a mind game, or a rubrics cube. Hard to figure out. Hard to set down. Hard to ever get away from.

He could see the nurse look at him with sympathy out of the corner of his eye. Turning his full attention to the agents, he asked "Where am I?"

Jim sighed. "Home, now. San Francisco's your home. We thought it would be easier on you to be here. So we had them airlift you to San Francisco Memorial." He paused. "We thought Calleigh should go to rest here."

"You missed the service," the other agent, Dan, told him. "I'm sorry."

He knew what they were saying. I'm sorry. It meant that they hadn't had a choice. It was code for "don't get snappy with us, we didn't do it."

So he nodded. "I..." he sighed, then ran a hand over his face. "When can I go home?"

One agent shook his head. Never. The other looked at the nurse. She appeared nervous for a moment, then bustled out of the room, telling them she was going to find a doctor.

As soon as she left the room, the third agent shut the door. Tim-now-Todd looked at them. "Tell me everything," he growled.

"It was the open case you were working on. You almost died. Once they got you stable, though, we flew you here. You'll have a job set up, like you were transferring from Phoenix. That's where you had yor last job, okay? If they find you, we will move you again. Tim Speedle's funeral was three days ago. Your mother gave Calleigh your flag."

Tim's eyes teared up a little. "Thank you."

The third agent sighed. "Your name is Todd Morgan. Your fiancé was Calleigh Anderson. You were from Phoenix; she was from a small town in Alabama. You met at a coffee shop near where you worked. She's dead in this accident - robbery at a small corner store. You tired to save her."

Tim nodded. "Okay. When can I go back?"

"When everyone from that case you were working is dead or caught."

Tim sighed. It could be years.

And years it was. Once he was let out of the hospital, Jim Stone, the agent he'd pretended to know, took him to a small apartment. It was his new home.

He was sent to work at the hospital. He was now working in the research center. He was good at it.

But it wasn't crime fighting. He didn't have the urgent feeling, the feeling that made him work his hardest, made him push himself.

And Calleigh thought he was dead.

He had another mentor, someone to show him the ropes. Just like he had at CSI. Just like Megan Donner. But he never let himself get attached. These people would turn on him, just like Megan did. Just up and leave, just like she had. He could remember when she'd left. Horatio had been shocked. She'd been friends with them all, and now she was refusing to talk to any of them.

She'd left them, just like that.

San Francisco lasted all of two years, before they found him. He was moved Las Vegas. He worked as a security tech in a casino. Then they found him again.

It went on and on, for seventeen years. He'd been a teacher in Seattle, a stockbroker in Denver, a reporter in Cleveland. A cameraman for the local news in Boston, and a photographer in New York. He'd been a radio DJ in Atlanta and a cab driver in Tampa.

They'd never found him in Tampa. Horatio had found the bad guys first. Like he always did.

And that's when the call came. It had been an older, less stoic Jim Stone. The agent with whom he'd become friends. Someone who was in every city, though he always returned home. He was there though, came to see him sometimes too.

But this call had been different. The first words had been. "You're safe."

He'd never been safe. Not once, not since he'd woken up in San Francisco. He was now. "They're caught?"

So calm, like he was talking about a loos dog. Not like it had been on his mind for seventeen years. Not like this meant he could go home.

"Horatio Caine caught them. On the case you had open."

Tim had packed his bags as soon as he hung up with Jim, and drove straight through the night to Miami. To Calleigh. To his home.

He'd written a letter, way back in San Francisco. The DA had been instructed by the feds to give it to Horatio Caine when the case of Jeanine Cavetti was solved. Or in twenty years. Whichever came first.

Because Tim Speedle would return in twenty years. He didn't give a damn if they found him. He'd show them all he was alive and then disappear for good. Somewhere in South America maybe.

Still, that call. That one call. That had been all it took.

He wasn't Jason Abernathy any longer. Not Todd Morgan, Kyle Anderson, Henry Scott, Greg Saints, or anyone else.

He was Tim Speedle. And he'd be damned if he didn't talk to those people he'd been missing for seventeen years the first day he could.


	6. Chapter Five 'October 2021, Miami

**Authors Note:** I made a banner: img. albums/ v346/ risingrequiem /ahdito1.jpg (remove spaces) . copy and paste folks! Hope it shows up, too. Um, thanks to Moxie, who decided to go above and beyond and send me the file in a bunch of different formats so that I could open it at my dad's house. We've been using Mac's before this, so using an IBM was interesting. Um... Introducing an original char, hoping to keep her as far from a Mary-Sue as possible. She's not (hopefully) going to be a main character. Anyways.

ALSO: I changed Laura to Valera. My mistake. Sorry guys. I edited it all as well.

**Chapter Five – October 2021, Miami**

Speed hadn't stopped talking once he started. The words had poured out of him, falling out like the dam he'd had in place for so many years, had finally broken. Like someone who hadn't said anything in years, finally finding his voice.

When he finished, he leaned back in his chair, the front legs tipping off the ground, only a few inches, just like he use to. Without thinking, Eric tapped one back leg, sending the chair over and its occupant sprawling.

Speed jumped up, a grin on his face. "Delko! God, what the hell was that for?"

Eric grinned. "Oh, I dunno. Looked like the floor needed some company."

The two men laughed. They'd had this scene down pat now, having done it so many times before.

Calleigh watched them, a sad smile on her face. It was just like before. Like when Speed was still there and they were still planning on marrying in the spring. Like the whole seventeen years could have been collapsed down from that day in September until today.

Valera saw Calleigh's look and sighed. While Eric and Speed could fall back into their old ways, joking and messing around with each other like nothing had happened, Calleigh and Speed would need time. They would need to talk.

Jackson most definitely needed to talk with his dad. Valera could tell he didn't know what to think. He'd grown up with his dad portrayed in such a light of perfection, almost, one that only people who are dead could be portrayed in. Tim Speedle had been the answer to Calleigh Duquesne's prayers. When he had been taken from her, it was like her life had ended.

And then Jackson had come. A piece of the man that had been taken from her. Something she would always remember him by.

Of course that was a double-edged sword. He was truly a piece of Tim Speedle and could have passed for him, only much younger.

It hurt them all, sometimes, to see him. Especially when he did things to remind them, even if it was on accident.

And of course, Jackson was at loss as to how to act. For as long as long as he had been around, his father had been that "brave, dead cop." The one that had given his life to find a small child, a boy, who had been kidnapped. And left behind a pregnant fiancé.

To find that his father wasn't dead, that his dad was alive and always had been was hard. To say the least. Jackson really didn't know if he should be grateful that the man was alive or pissed off at him that he had stayed away for so long.

Once Speed finished talking, Yelina got up and walked out of the room. No one had stopped her, though Speed gave her a strange look. Eric put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry. She'd probably gotta go home and tell it all to Rick."

Speed raised an eyebrow and Adele laughed. "They got married, couple years after, yeah."

No one knew exactly how to approach this now. Before it was his death. Now it was the day he'd left. But it wasn't his choice, so it was more like the day he'd been taken away.

"So," Horatio said. "WPP?"

Speed nodded. "Yeah. Jim Stone."

Horatio smiled at the name. "Stone, huh? Nice guy. Glad he was put on your case."

The people in the CSI labs worked with the WPP a lot, giving them information on cases gone bad and updating them on when people could return to their old lives.

It amazed them at how well the witness protection program could pull off the disappearance. Especially when it involved a CSI. They were paid to see things that others didn't, things like a fake death, and none of them had.

Looking back, Horatio could see the mistakes, the things they should have investigated. But why would they have? Their friend was dead and that was all that truly mattered. He was dead. And then another of their CSI's was off duty for fieldwork because she was pregnant.

Now though, Horatio was glad that it had happened as it had. At least Tim hadn't died. At least he'd have a chance to get to know his son.

They began to talk again, everyone in low voices. Every now and then, no matter what they were talking about, their eyes moved over to Speed, almost as if to see if he was truly there.

It was late, almost nine at night, when the door to the conference room opened. In it stood a woman, maybe twenty-six, with burns down one side of her face. If she hadn't been so badly scarred, she might have been pretty. Her hair was long and brown, and her eyes were hard looking.

"Delko, I've got the results on that DNA back. You might want to come look at this," she held the folder out.

Jackson took his eyes off his father when he heard her voice. Turning around, he grinned at her. "Kain!"

Kain McKenzie grinned at the younger boy. The hard, stilled look that had been on her face just moments before slid off and was replaced by that of an older sibling. "Jackie Boy!"

Jackson rolled his eyes, standing up and going over to grab her hand. The hand was just as scarred as her face, a smooth, melted look to it. He pulled her over, past Eric, who took the folder, and to Tim. "This is Tim Speedle, my dad," he told her proudly.

He was sixteen going on three at the moment, showing the girl he had adored since she had shown up four years before his father. Kain was an excellent trace expert, top of her class at Columbia. Close friends of the family had put her through college after her parents had died in the same car accident that had marred her body.

But to Jackson, this was a one and only moment. He'd always wanted to do what his dad had done, something that would make his mom proud. He'd wanted to be like his dad. Then Kain had shown up. She'd gone to the same school his father had, and did the same thing. And she was alive. She was an actual person to worship.

And worship he had. Since he was thirteen, the boy had followed Kain everywhere he was allowed. Calleigh had constantly called him off at first, until Kain had told her to let him be. Said he reminded her of her little brothers.

Both had died with her parents.

In return, Kain ended up babysitting more than she'd have liked. Though they never truly called it that, she knew Calleigh was grateful to not have to worry so much about him running around with friends and getting into trouble.

Instead of drugs and parties, Jackson went all over with Kain. Kain's last few years of her childhood had been on a Virginia farm, where she'd found her horse, Belle Star. When she'd found out Jackson had never been on a horse in his life, she immediately set out to rectify that. Jackson was now a competent rider.

Now, though, Kain raised a speculative eyebrow. "Tim Speedle's dead."

Speed grinned. He like this young woman, one whom Jackson seemed enamored with. No one had told him out right before now that Jackson was his son, though he'd inferred it. It wasn't hard to see the looks. He'd have to get the full story later.

Speed stood up and stuck his hand out. "Actually, I'm not. Just returning from WPP."

Kain's eyes widened and she shook his hand. No one but Tim saw the look of longing that her eyes held, the tell tale sign that he knew meant she was one of them. One of the souls the WPP lost through the years.

But he wouldn't ever confront her to see if she was the victim of losing someone in it, or if she herself was in the program. That was classified in the worst of ways.

Kain nodded to him, then turned away to look at Eric. "I did them twice. I know that can't be right."

Tim smiled. She sounded indignant. That something was beating her and she didn't know why.

He moved over, to look at the file. "No..." he drawled, knowing exactly what he was looking at. "That's dogs blood. And you shouldn't have that dog's blood in a new investigation."

Eric looked at him. "Why not?"

"'Cause," he sighed. "I processed that dog's blood before I was "killed". The killer went away for twenty-five..."

"Or eighteen, with good behavior," Horatio chimed in.

"I'll get the records," Calleigh said, standing up and leaving the room.

Valera rose and started to leave. "I'll get the evidence boxes."

"Show me the new evidence?" Tim asked Kain.

Kain nodded and led the way, with Tim and Jackson following.

Eric looked at Horatio. "You wanna lead this case?"

Horatio grinned at him. "Yeah, sure. For old time sakes."

Eric laughed. Tim Speedle was back. So was the team Horatio had crafted so finely, all those years ago.


End file.
